Stuck on U
by MrsEads
Summary: [Snickers, of course] Just where were Nick and Sara during Spellbound? This is my take on it!


Author's Note: I got this idea about twenty minutes into the episode, because, like any good George Eads fan, I recognize very quickly when my man isn't in an episode. _Then_, I realized that Sara wasn't in it either…which got the gears in my head turning.

Spoilers: 'Nesting Dolls', 'Grave Danger' (but surprisingly, not 'Spellbound')

Disclaimer: George Eads is mine in my heart, but on paper I have no claim to him or CSI.

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"Do you think they'll realize we're gone?" Nick asked. He was panicking a little bit. "I mean, we could be stuck here all day."

"I'm sure someone will notice," Sara said, slightly exasperated with their current situation.

"I don't actually think they will," Nick confessed. "I mean, you called in sick, and today's my day off."

They had been in an elevator together at Desert Palm Hospital. Sara had been there to get checked out, because she'd been really under the weather lately, and Nick was there to visit a friend of his who'd just had a baby. Somehow, they'd ended up in the same elevator at the same time. All the regular, huge elevators were either broken or took too long to come, so they'd taken a very small service elevator, just big enough for the two of them. There was just one problem.

The elevator was stuck.

They'd been sitting on the floor for the last hour and a half, but now claustrophobia was starting to set in for Nick. Sara could see that he was starting to sweat a bit and he was breathing more rapidly. She didn't want him to have to deal with a panic attack.

She reached her hand over and took his and said, "Look at me." He obeyed, and Sara noticed that his dark eyes were wide with fear. Trying to put him at ease, she gestured upwards. "Look, there's a fan there. We have fresh air. You're not alone. You can breathe. You'll be okay, okay?"

He swallowed hard, nodding slightly and closing his eyes. He was trying to deal with this, but ninety minutes was taking its toll. Sara only wished she could take some of his pain away for him, but she knew she couldn't. Instead she just gripped his hand a little harder so he wouldn't feel alone.

They'd already pressed the emergency button, and crews were working to get the elevator working again, but they were taking a very long time. Apparently there was a huge problem and an entire part needed to be replaced, while the actual elevator hung there by one less cable than regulation. As if Nick's current situation wasn't nerve-wracking enough, now they were going to have to worry about the possibility of plummeting to their deaths in an elevator. What they didn't know was they'd only fall about five feet if the cables snapped, which they more than likely wouldn't. They had been right between the main floor and the underground parkade when they'd gotten stuck.

Sara kept squeezing and releasing his hand rhythmically, and eventually he seemed to start to calm down. His breathing started to slow, and his grip on her hand loosened.

"Thanks," he said, voice low.

"Anytime," Sara assured.

He shifted a bit. "Don't…tell anyone, okay?" he asked, feeling a bit awkward.

"About what?" Sara asked, smiling a bit. She asked delicately, "Are you getting professional help?"

He exhaled sharply and tried to avoid her gaze. "'Professional' implies they have some experience in what they're helping you with. If you can show me someone else who's been buried alive, nearly eaten to death by ants, and had a light flicked on and off in their face every two minutes for over twelve hours, _that's_ professional help. Psychologists don't know anything. They don't know what it's like to feel like there's an enormous weight pressing down on you with every breath you take. They don't know what it's like to hardly be able to move more than a few inches. To have your back ache the way mine did, to want so desperately just to sit up. They aren't professionals. They're morons," he said bitterly.

Sara was a bit taken aback. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Talking is overrated," he scoffed.

She was a bit hurt, but she knew that he was right. When her mother had killed her father, she'd been forced into more counselling sessions than she could count, and not one of them helped a bit. They didn't understand what it was like to lose two parents at once, in a single fit of rage. They didn't understand her. Nick was right. They were _not_ professionals.

He could see in her eyes that she was a bit saddened, and his heart softened. "I'm sorry, Sara. I didn't mean that. Do you want me to talk about it?"

She shrugged. "Only if you think it'll help you," she said passively.

"I don't know. I've kind of told everything I want anyone to know. I don't have much more to say."

"How about the things you didn't want anyone to know? That might be kind of a relief to you," she pressed gently.

Again he looked away from her. He willed himself to be able to tell her, and finally worked up the courage.

"You know the tape that Walter Gordon left in the box?" he asked. Sara nodded. "Well, I recorded my goodbye message on it." He didn't seem like he was going to continue.

"And…?" Sara supplied.

"Well, I said goodbye to everybody on it. I said goodbye to my mom and dad, my siblings, Grissom, Warrick, Catherine, Greg, even Brass." He was quiet for a minute. "And you," he said, voice barely above a whisper.

"What did you say on it?" she asked.

"Not much. I said to my parents that they raised me right. I told Grissom that I was sorry if I ever disappointed him. I told Warrick that he was like a brother to me, and I was going to miss him. Catherine…I don't really remember. I think I said that she taught me things I'd never learn elsewhere. I told Greg to stay wacky. I told Brass to keep chasing the bad guys and never look back." He stopped. Again, he didn't seem like he was going to go on.

"What did you say to me?" Sara asked timidly.

Nick was quiet for a minute. He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, but no words came out. Finally he leaned over and kissed her full on the mouth.

Sara had never been more shocked in her life. She pulled back, more out of surprise than of disgust. She looked at him quizzically.

Nick quickly averted her gaze and cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, I just –"

Sara interrupted him by grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him towards her, this time initiating the kiss herself. He eagerly accepted and put his hand around the back of her neck, kissing her softly.

They kissed for a good fifteen minutes when they felt the elevator shudder to life. Surprised, they pulled back and instinctively fixed their clothes.

"I guess they fixed it," Nick said, stating the obvious.

They smiled at each other softly. "So, what was it that you said on the tape?" Sara asked.

"I said that I'd miss you."

"That's…one way to say 'I love you', I guess…"

"I didn't say I loved you on the tape."

Sara was a bit confused. "Why not? I think you just made it clear that you do love me."

"I _do_ love you, Sara, and I did then too."

"Then why didn't you say so? I mean, those might have been the last words I ever heard you speak, and all you said was that you'd miss me?" She was getting a bit angry.

"Sara, if there's one thing I learned, it's that there's nothing worse than not being able to tell someone how you feel after they've told you. I didn't want you to be tormented by something you wanted to say to me afterwards."

She was a bit taken aback. He was on the verge of dying, and he was thinking about _her_? That totally rocked her world right there.

"Well, I…" Sara stuttered. She couldn't quite find the right words to say.

"But, for what it's worth, I love you," he said softly.

"I love you too. I think I always have."

"Me too."

The doors opened and they walked out into the cool parkade air, arms linked together. Sara giggled out of the blue.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"I just realized something. We've been stuck on 'U' for the past two hours. 'U' for Underground, you know? You, 'U', get it?"

He just shook his head and chuckled. "Sara, we need to get some coffee into you, and fast."

"Great," she said. "I'll drive."

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Author's Note: So _that_ was my first real oneshot. Falling turned into my "semi-long-two-shot-one-shot", according to **The Sounds of Silence**. But this one won't. This is going to stay a oneshot. For good. Definitely. But I still welcome reviews!


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